My Story
by BSBbaby506
Summary: Sirius Black was convicted to a life-time in Azkaban without so much as a question to his innocence. Finally, he tells his story...from the very beginning. (starts in first year)


There is a very noteable difference between losing someone, and actually being the one who's lost. First of all, there is no denial. Death is just about the only thing in life that is absolute. But enough with that. I'm not taking time out of my eternity to talk about death. You'll get there some day and find out for yourself. I want to tell you _my_ story. For five years now you've been following Harry through the halls of Hogwarts, but there are many gaps in Harry's side of the story. One of the kick's of being dead is that all the stuff that was mysterious, all those questions that never got answered, suddenly are unveiled to you.

The best way to start a story is at the beginnng. My beginning, like every one else, starts at birth. But I'd rather start a little later. If there was one truth about me, it was that I was always up for an adventure. And childhood for me was more like...a prelude. A mere introduction to life itself.

So I think I'll start with where my life truely began - at Hogwarts.

_September 1, 1966. _

_Kings Cross Station_

_10:36 a.m._

"Hurry, boy! Come _on_!" my mother says, grabbing me by the hand and striding through the muggles at a pace I can't keep up with. My father didn't even try to stay with us. He pushed my trolley at his own strolling pace, ignoring my mother. Regulus, my younger brother of 3 years, was at his side. "Stupid boy!" my mother hissed at me. "I told you we'd be late if you didn't pack last night."

I merely trot behind not saying anything. I've grown far to use to her beligerant rambling to care. She said it was my packing that made her walk so fast, but I knew that wasn't true. My mother hated muggles. Even more than muggle-borns, I think. She wouldn't say so when she was surrounded by them on all sides - my mom was never a skilled witch - but I knew what she was thinking.

Finally, we reached Platform 9 and 3/4. My mother shoved my ticket into my hand, and stared narrow-eyed at my father behind us who didn't quail under her glare. When he arrived with Regulus, my departure from my family was silent. All the years of anticipation, and all I got as a good was 'don't let the doorknob hit you on your ass on the way out'. No one said goodbye. No one said 'I'll miss you'. And no one said 'I love you' as I ran through the wall of the Platform.

Suddenly the vibrant scarlet color of the Hogwarts Express illuminated my vision. All around me, kids and adults were bustling around, shoving luggage onto the train, hugging, talking, laughing. All these years waiting to come to Hogwarts, and I wasn't disappointed yet. I started to make my way through the crowd to load my luggage onto the train. I felt very isolated, realizing I had no one to sit with or talk to.

A hand slapped me on my back and I heard, "Oy! Sirius, welcome to Hogwarts, mate!" It was Andromeda Black; my favorite cousin and the only other Black family outcast. Like me Andromeda was shunned for her lack of hatred toward muggles and muggle-borns. But Andromeda had given our family a whole new reason to hate her two years ago when she became the first Black selected for Gryffindor.

"Andy! Man, am I glad to see you!" I said, smiling.

"I figured as much," she said slyly. "A loser like you doesn't have many friends..."

"I don't want to go," sobbed a tiny boy as his mom dragged him and his luggage toward the train entrance.

"I bet I have more than him," I said, nodding toward the boy.

"He's got separation issues. Anyway, Let's go," Andromeda said. "Get this stuff loaded. The train is about to leave."

After we loaded everything on the train, Andromeda led me through the compartments and on the way, we ran into an older boy.

"Frank!" Andromeda greeted him. "My goodness, a prefect! What a surprise," she said sarcastically.

Frank only smiled, gave a nod, and continued back to the Prefect's compartment at the front.

"That's Frank Longbottom," Andromeda said, stating the obvious.

"I know," I answered shortly. I could hardly say my parents were friends with the Longbottoms. There were few old pureblood families, and there seemed to be a divide between which were the "good sort" and which were the "bad sort." Obviously, the bad sort never considers themselves bad...just not goody-goody. On my family's side of the barrier were the Blacks, Malfoys, and Lestranges. On the other side, the Longbottoms, Weasleys, and Potters. You'll know all these names, of course. What you might not know is that both sides were very careful to avoid each other to the best of their ability.

Andromeda and I siddled into a compartment with a few of Andromeda's friends, the only one of whom you'll know is Alice Longbottom. Actually, at this time she was known as Alice Pettigrew...Peter's second cousin. I forgot to mention that Peter is,himself, a pureblood. But only for the past three generations. He and Alice are, or I should say, were nothing alike.

Once the train had started toward Hogwarts, it wasn't twenty minutes when one of Andromeda's friends suggested I go to the lady with cart and buy them sweets for the long trip. Before I could protest, they all rummaged through their handbags and dumped sickles and knuts onto my lap with an order of how many bernie's botts every flavor beans I should buy, or the pound of honeydukes chocolate they wanted.

I headed toward the back of the train in search of the woman with the trolley. All of a sudden, a door came flying out and hit me hard enough to knock me on my ass. A boy peered around the other side, and looked down at me on the ground.

"Oy, sorry mate. Didn't see you there."

"Are you blind?" I hissed nastily at him.

I knew him. He was a Potter. I'd never actually spoken to him, but he and my father were both outspoken citizens with opposing viewpoints on everything. Even if I had wanted to talk to him, my father never would have allowed it. He loved his pride more than he loved his son.

The Potter boy raised his eyebrows, and an expression of recognition dawned on his face. He looked me up and down, taking in my fine robes, my tall figure, and my black hair.

"On second thought, I'm not sorry at all the have put a Black on his ass," he said fiercely.

"And I'm not sorry to have knocked a Potter on his," I retorted with anger. And with that, I got to my feet and knocked him on his ass faster and harder than I'd ever stuck it to Regulus.

He got to his feet, and pummeled into me. We both went flying into the ground. Before either I us could raise a fist, someone had us by the scruff of our necks.

"I'm writing you up, both of you!"

It was Frank Longbottom. James struggled, but Frank got a stronger grip on the scruff of his neck and James desisted as he gagged. As Frank dragged us toward the front to get our names, several heads stuck out of the compartments curiously. One of whom was Andromeda. She frowned as I passed, and even called out to Frank what was he playing at? But Frank ignored her. We reached the prefects compartment and he shoved us in.

The Potter boy and I sat next to each other, but distinctly looked away.

"What your name?" Frank demanded, once he'd gotten out some parchment and inked his quill. That badge shone more brightly than ever.

"Sirius Black," I answered in an oddly meek voice. I'd never gotten in trouble by anyone other than my parents, and that was only a matter of having a strong hide.

"Yours?" he shot at the Potter boy.

"James Potter," James retorted, sounding ballsy. Frank ignored his tone. Maybe he could smell the fear in James. All I knew was that I couldn't even see it.

"Right," Frank said shortly. "You two are to sit here in silence until we get to school. Then I'll turn your names in to your heads of house." He glared at us a moment to make sure we understood. When we said nothing, he folded the parchment and shoved it in his pocket. The rest of the trip, James and I sat there, not saying a word.

After what seemed like an eternity, the Hogwarts Express finally arrived at Hogsmeade. Everyone hurried off the train. I saw the other students head toward horseless carraiges, and began making my own way there when a gruff voice called, "Firs' years! Firs' years over here!"

A _huge_, ferocious looking man with long frizzled hair and beard hulked over all the students with a lantern in his hand. Surely you need no introduction to Hagrid.

"C'mon, follow me - any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

Me and my classmates, including James Potter, slipped and stumbled as we followed Hagrid down a deep, muddy slope. At the end of the hill stood what seemed like 50 boats.

"Four to a boat, now! C'mon, hurry up!" Hagrid called.

Sirius clambered into a boat with a large girl, the boy he'd seen sobbing at Kings Cross, and another butterball boy with sandy blond hair. The temperature seemed to have dropped thirty degrees since that morning, and everone shivered and pulled thier cloaks tighter. As they rounded a bend in the river, Hogwarts suddenlt illuminated into view. On top of a hill, its broad towers sparkled against the stars. It was truely a breath-taking sight. Gradually, they approached the landing point.

"Lower yer heads!" Hagrid called as the reached a cliff, and the boats floated through a curtain of ivory hiding an opening in the cliff face. As the sailed through a small tunnel, it was deadly silent. All I could hear was the anxious breathing of all the students. We reached the opening that led to an underground harbor. There, everone climbed out of their boats and followed Hagrid and his lantered up the rocky steps until we finally reached the level grassy ground. Hagrid took us to the huge Oak doors and knocked three times.

A man with short, white hair appeared at the door. My first impression was that this man (clearly near 200 years old) could be blown over with a strong wind. I would come to find out, However, that Professor Posden was as strong and powerful as they came.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," he said in a hard voice that didn't match his appearance. "My name is Prefossor Posden. You will follow me into the Great Hall. There, you will be sorted into your house. There are four houses, named after each founder of Hogwarts. The Houses are Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin."

He spoke in the way a school text book is written. Perfectly puncutated and articulately worded, never using a Pronoun in place of a Proper name. His voice never raised or lowered in tone, but simply kept the same willful inflection with each word.

With that, he turned on his heel and lead the into the nearest set of doors that lead to the Great Hall. There were four House Tables with at least 200 students sitting at each. Later I would learn that Slytherin was on the far left, then Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, then Ravenclaw on the far right. At the front of the Great Hall sat the staff table, and I surmised around forty teachers were employed. The cieling was bewitched to look like the night sky, and lit candles floated above each house table. The first years were led to the front of the Great Hall where a three-legged stool sat with a hat resting on top. The Great Hall got very quite. The hat seemed to twitch for a moment, then an opening near the brim opened and the hat began singing:

A thousand years ago or more

I was made by the Hogwarts four

Gryffindor took me off his head

To sort young students when they were dead

Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, or Slytherin

One of these houses, I'll sort you in  
  
You may be in Ravenclaw

The most brilliant of them all

Their logical and wise minds

Make hard choices and easy call  
  
You may be put in Gryffindor

The bravest of the Hogwarts four

Give their lives, these people would

To save the world, if they could  
  
You may be put in Hufflepuff

For they're always loyal and just

From your side, they'll never stray

To be your friend, they'll find a way  
  
You may be put in Slytherin,

These ambitious folk love to win

They will do almost anything

To accomplish all their ends

The Sorting Hat returned to its inanimate state on the stool as the Hall broke out in applause. I looked around at the other first years, who looked pale and sweaty. Most of the clapped half-heartedly as though they didn't have a mental on where they were or why they were here. Posden stood beside the chair and read the first name.

"Andover, Katie." The girl edge toward the stool and put the hat on her head.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the sorting hat called after a moment's pause. The girl climbed off the stool relieved and joined the table that cheered and clapped.

"Avimov, Johnathan."

"SLYTHERIN!" the hat cried. My insides began to squim as I watched the Slytherins jeer for the new student among the rank. In just a moment, they'd be appluading my addition to their house...and I didn't want to join.

"Becker, Heather."

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Black, Sirius."

I walked slowly to the stool, not looking around me, but feeling the eyes boring into the back of my hair. As I put the sorting hat on my head, it obstructed my entire vision so all I saw was dark.

_Ah, curious. Very curious. Still waters run deep with this one, I see. Yes, you can't judge the book by its cover. I think the choice is quite obvious. I'll put you in..._

"GRYFFINDOR!"

I didn't get the applause of jeers like the others. The clapping at the Gryffindor table was mixed and unenthusiastic. It quickly died out when the muggle-borns realized what a surprise it was the children from wizard families who knew a Black should not have been put in Gryffindor. I pulled the hat off numbly, and caught the looks on their faces. First I looked down the line of first years. Most were curious why I hadn't gotten the applause of the other first years. I caught the look of James Potter, who looked flatout flabbergasted. It finally occured to me that I'd been sitting on that stool for too long, and I slid off the chair and walked uncertainly toward the Gryffindor table. Andromeda flailed her arms for me to sit next to her, but I ignored her and took a seat at the end.

Professor Posden called more students forward, and more went to Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. But it wasn't until, "Evans, Lilian" was called forward that an attractive redheaded girl was added to Gryffindor. Lily smiled and made her way to the Gyrffindor table and sat on the oppisit side of me. She flashed me another smile and turned her attention to the remaning Gryffindors.

Soon followed Remus, looking sick and tired. Now I realize he must have come to Hogwarts fresh from a full moon. Then, of course, Peter. Why Peter was put in Gryffindor had always been a mystery to me, but like I said...one of the perks of being dead is getting answers to all those questions. Further in my life, I learned many things about my friends to be. Perhaps you'll be able to decide for yourself the sorting hat's motivation for putting Peter in Gryffindor. Right after Peter, James was pronounced Gryffindor and he joined the table next to Peter who sat on the opposit side of me. James and I exchanged a short glare that clearly stated, living together or not, we're not friends by a long shot.

You may be wondering about some of the others. Snape, for example. Well, he was put in Slytherin, obviously. And yes, the marauders did form an allience early on against Snape and his idiots. But that was only after me and James combined forces. In the meantime, we fought separately against Lucious Malfoy, Knot, Crabbe, Goyle, Snape, Lenstrange, and lets not forget, my cousins...Bellatrix, who was a forth year, and Narcissa, a second year.

Oh, what a story that will be.


End file.
